


smooth sailing

by thelittlealchemist



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Post-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlealchemist/pseuds/thelittlealchemist
Summary: focuses on Wirt and Greg (mostly Wirt) recovering after being released from the hospital.
Relationships: Sara/Wirt (Over the Garden Wall)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	smooth sailing

" _Help..._ " was all that Wirt could get out before fainting.

The police, Sara, Jason Funderburker, and a girl dressed as a bird rushed to the lakeside. One of the cops contacted the paramedics as the other began first aid, checking to see if the boys were breathing, turning them on their side so they wouldn't choke if they were to vomit any water.

As the ambulance drove the brothers to the hospital, the police were right behind, bringing the other teens with them, trying to keep them calm. Upon arrival, the doctors quickly worked to get their breathing and heartbeat stable, hooking up breathing assistant machines to both of them. Eventually, Greg stirred, opening his eyes and attempting to speak, mumbling, half awake. Relieved, the staff was able to relax slightly. As soon as he was fully awake, the younger brother began expressing the want to leave his bed, petting the bullfrog that he had found earlier that night. The doctors refused, but allowed the other kids to talk to him and keep him occupied. 

He told them the story of the Unknown, with his own spin to things, of course. They didn't know whether to believe it or not, as it _was_ Greg, but there _were_ stories of people seeing strange things during near death experiences. 

Sara looked to Wirt, still unconcious and wearing an oxygen mask. If only they had a more reliable source. 

She moved away from Greg's bed and over to Wirt's, watching his chest slowly rise and fall, wondering if he was still dreaming of the strange forest. It was so scary, seeing him rely on a machine to breathe. He was pale, hair still damp, most certainly suffering from hypothermia from how cold the water and autumn air were. Sara sighed, climbing up to sit on the foot of the bed, grateful he was so short. 

She took his hand, squeezing it, hoping maybe he could feel it in his sleep.

As Greg neared the end of recalling their meeting with a evil spirit, the doctor's finished a checkup on the two, reporting that Wirt's vitals had stabilized, and that they were taking off the oxygen mask. Relief washed over the group, and Sara began to relax as Greg cheered for his brother's safety. She focused once more on the story the younger brother told, but was brought back out of it when she felt her hand squeezed. She quickly turned to face Wirt.

"Wirt? Are you alright? Can you see me, Wirt?" She asked, letting go of his hand and leaning closer. 

His eyes slowly opened, squinting against the light. "Where...am I?"

"The hospital."

"Hos...pital?" He sat up, eyes wide. "Greg, where's Greg?"

Wirt turned to see his brother out of bed, hair combed neatly, holding Jason Funderberker, who was now wearing socks and the hat from Sara's costume. He greeted him, telling him that he was recalling the story of the Unknown to the teens.

"I was just telling them about the time you and I almost got--" Greg was interrupted by the frog croaking loudly. "Haha, yeah, and you were there, too, Jason Funderberker!"

"Me?" asked Jason Funderburker.

"Not you--Jason Funderberker! My frog!"

"Our frog." Wirt corrected him. 

"Our frog," Greg repeating, smiling. 

"Our frog?" asked Funderburker, clearly wanting to be included. 

\---

It had been a few days since that Halloween night. The boys remained in the hospital for two days to be monitored before being released. Wirt thought they would need to stay a lot longer, but apparently all the doctors do is make sure you're breathing and then send you away. 

Greg seemed to escape the ordeal relatively unscathed. He was really too young to really tell what effect everything had on him, but he did get cold easier and had trouble performing more than one task at a time and some problems with speech. But as said before, he was young, and with determination, he could overcome these difficulties to learn like any other kid.

On the other hand, Wirt was not nearly as young, and felt a bigger impact than his brother. He had developed ataxia, and was undergoing physical therapy to help recover as much as he could. 

Of course, Sara went with him, to support him. That was what she focused on the most during this time--supporting him. They had begun dating after listening to the tape at his house, and having such a wonderful partner made the recovery process so much easier for Wirt. She helped tutor Greg as well, not wanting the poor kid to have to repeat kindergarten. She became like a big sister to him. 

"I'm proud of you."

Wirt paused his reading to look up at her. "F-For what?"

"Nevermind," she said, with a sly smile. 

"Wait--what? What did i--?" 

Sara chuckled. "I was going to say I was proud of you for finishing the page without slurring or stuttering, but...:

Wirt caught on, reflecting her smile. "Shoot!" He exclaimed in mock frustration. 

"Before you know it, you'll be able to make me another tape."

His face reddened and he looked away for a moment. "I _have_ been working on some new melodies..."

"It doesn't hurt?"

"What? Playing the clarinet? Yeah, but only if I do it for too long. B-But I'm pretty sure that applies to, uh, everything." He seemed amused, but appreciative of her concern. 

"How's the basooning going?" She asked, remembering that he had picked it up after discovering he was pretty good at it in his dreams. 

"Oh, it's good, its good. It's a little difficult learning a new instrument, and I wish I could remember the song I played on that ferry, but, uh, yeah. Its great!" He'd forget things easily now, but he had the determination to figure things out.

"I'm glad. You seemed really excited to try it." Her tone softened, causing Wirt's cheeks to darken once more.

"Well, playing the bassoon on that ferry was one of the best memories I have of that place. It really felt like everything was going to be okay." He fiddled with the pages he held idly. 

After pausing a moment, he carefully stood up. "I gotta go, be right back."

Greg entered the room as soon as Wirt left, hopping up onto the stool he was sitting in. He smiled at Sara, kicking his legs.

"Someone's got a lotta energy today." She commented, returning the smile. 

"I'm just excited for our next toot-ter meeting! I really like the thing we're reading!" He told her, raising his hands. 

"Well, you're lucky I have good taste in stories. Enjoy reading class when you can--it gets _boring_ in high school."

"I'm sorry, Sara. Hey, maybe you should write a book with Wirt so I can read in when I'm in high school!" He suggested, looking down at the poems he sat on.

"That'd be fun. Maybe Wirt could make a book of poems about the Unknown. That'd be a best seller for sure." Sara imagined kids in school reading about the stories he had told her.

"Great idea! Everyone would love that!! Well, I gotta take Jason Funderberker for his walk."

"Does he have a leash?"

"No, he just knows how far he can hop around."

"That's cute. He really likes you. Have fun!" Sara gave a small wave goodbye.

As she waited for Wirt to return, she reorganized the papers on the stool, wondering where he comes up with the ideas for so many poems. Or how he even remembers the ideas long enough to write them all down. Maybe he writes them as soon as they come to his head. She remembered he asked for paper in the hospital so he could write down what had just happened while it was fresh on his mind. 

The door reopened, snapping her from her thoughts. Wirt entered, holding a bag of ice to his elbow. 

Sara stood up. "Hey, what happened?"

"I-I fell, it's fine. Just a small scrape. I'm used to it. Hardly hurts anymore." He assured her, making his way to his stool.

She looked unsure for a moment, before sitting back down as well. Smiling again, she looked through her papers. Sara was glad he was getting better at not pitying himself, and taking his accidents in stride. They had been becoming less frequent as the physical therapy progressed, and while they both knew he would never fully recover, they were at least happy that he was continuously improving. 

He was just glad his ability to write and play instruments wasn't affected.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if the cut off is a little weird! its late and i wanted to get this chapter posted so i can sleep :)


End file.
